Double Exposure
by one-guardian
Summary: Haruki is an up-and-coming photographer, but will her name finally become known once she lands famous supermodel Isuke for a photo shoot? Photographer/Model AU. Will include the rest of the Akuma no Riddle cast.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Dude, can you bring out the white umbrella? The light's a bit too harsh with the silver." I nearly shouted over the rock music playing in the background, still keeping my eyes to the model in front of me.

"Y-Yeah, sure thing." I barely hear my assistant, Mahiru Banba, say as she goes to retrieve the light modifier.

"Thanks a bunch."

The name's Haruki Sagae. I'm a photographer, and do I _seriously_ love my job. For a majority of the time, it doesn't even feel like I'm working.

"Uh, can you, like, change the music or something? It's kinda, like, annoying," The model in front of me whined.

And sometimes I feel like I don't get paid enough.

"Sure thing!" I try my hardest at not sounding bothered at all by it. I walked back over to my laptop that was connected to the studio speakers, looking back at the model as I asked, "Anything you got in mind?"

This was the third and last day of a scheduled shoot with a famous clothing line for their new line of women's and men's underwear. For each day, different models have been brought in. The first day there were two models, a male and a female. There was no problem with those two, they had great chemistry and really worked well in front of the camera. Yesterday, I had this goof of a guy running around the whole studio. He was funny and charming, and just overall a pleasure to work with. He did slip me his phone number before walking out the studio, and I have actually thought about giving him a go, but I've been busy as of late.

The model scheduled for the shoot today was extremely gorgeous. Of course, with the business she was in, you have to be. She had long, tousled, blonde hair that reached to the bottom of her back. She had high cheekbones (almost a requirement to have as a model nowadays), and killer eyebrows that were... to kill for. She had tan legs that ran for days, and beautiful emerald eyes.

If only those eyes could show any interest in what we were currently doing.

"I don't know," She drawled, twirling a piece of her hair in thought, "Maybe some pop or, like, hip-hop or something."

I stared at my computer screen, mind blank. It's not that I really didn't know any pop or hip-hop music, but I didn't know what kind of pop or hip-hop she'd be into. Like, 80's pop or hardcore gangster rap doesn't really seem like her type. Then again, you'd be surprised by some people's tastes in music. I decided then to put on an online radio that one of my younger sisters listens to, that plays all the more recent and popular songs.

An upbeat song comes on, and I looked up at the model to gauge her reaction. She simply nodded her head, seemingly satisfied. I silently sigh as I walk back over to my position, putting a smile back on my face.

I've been in this job for as long as I remember. It was a hobby of mine when I was a young teen, and I came to be very passionate about it. At first, I was only interested in landscapes, and just taking pictures of nature and scenery. Later along, after I got better and gained a bit of experience with handling a camera and how it worked, I wanted to try out taking pictures of actual people. Now I prefer it more than I do landscapes. There's just something different about taking photos of people. You completely capture their feelings in the exact moment the flash goes off. It shines in their eyes and it's written all over their facial features, and it really does affect the mood of the photo itself. Other people can connect to the photo from the mood it sets off, and that's the most beautiful thing.

It wasn't until almost two years ago where I started becoming more known after I had taken some nice photos of this major celebrity's wedding, who had divorced the guy no more than a year later. Anyway, I was starting to get jobs left and right from magazines, instead of the usual wedding photographer jobs, and I slowly started drowning in it. That's when I realized I needed a bit of help, and that's when Mahiru came into the frame. Well, I had actually met Mahiru previously in high school. She was a freshman while I was a senior, so I hadn't known her for long. But we became good acquaintances, if not actual friends, since we were both in the school's yearbook and photography clubs. A few years later, when I was starting to become stressed from all of the work overload, I bumped into her at a grocery store. She was just as shy as she was when she was in high school, and I remember that I couldn't help but smile at that fact. She had just recently graduated, and was still very much into photography. However, she became very much interested in makeup and hair styling as well. That's when I asked her, right on the spot, if she could assist me with my work. She accepted without hesitation, which surprised me. In all honesty though, I don't think anyone else could fill her shoes any better. Even though she's titled as my 'assistant', she very much does a large portion of the work. From arranging appointments with magazines and scheduling shoots, to doing the model's hair and makeup, she's got it all in the bag.

"Here it is," Mahiru nearly mumbled as she handed me the white umbrella.

I thanked her with an appreciative grunt, taking the umbrella from her. I put the strap of my camera over my neck and let the camera hang before I went to adjust the lighting.

"So, like, how much longer is this gonna take?" The model before me asked as I finished the light setup.

"I just need a few more good shots, and then you can be on your way," I answered as I examined the new lighting on the model, "Oh yeah this is definitely better, dude. The softness brings out her beautiful features more." I informed Mahiru, but intentionally said it loud enough so that the model could hear.

Perhaps this would deteriorate her slightly sour attitude, and actually make for some good shots. Because from the shots we've already taken, they're all pretty bad and lacking all emotions except for the 'when-do-I-get-to-go-home-I'm-really-fucking-bored' emotion.

"Oh, really?" the blonde quipped up, suddenly showing her first sign of interest in, well... anything all day.

Jeez, that was easy.

"Yeah... definitely," I said in a slightly flirty tone as I push the sleeves of my white button-up past my elbows.

I looked back at the model to see her bra strap slipping, and couldn't help myself at the opportunity.

"Hold on a sec," I walked towards her.

I went behind her, grabbing the strap with one hand and placing my other upon her shoulder. Her head was turned, watching my hand as I dragged the strap up. After placing the strap in the right place, I began to adjust the length so it would no longer slip anymore. I felt her tense underneath my fingers, and I felt myself smirk. I pulled back, and walked around her till I was standing right in front of her.

"Much better," I smiled after examining her. I took my camera off from around my neck as I took a few steps back. I looked a bit to my right to see Mahiru smirking slightly, knowing exactly what I was doing.

I'm turning on the Sagae charm to see if I can get any reaction from her.

"Now keep to me," I deliberately motioned as I raised the camera.

Next thing I knew, she had a fire in her eyes, something that had been missing before.

The Sagae charm's working. As it always does.

I took a few pictures, capturing that fire, occasionally telling her to change her position every now and then.

I pulled back to examine the new shots momentarily, and I felt myself beginning to smirk as I continued to scroll through them.

"Alright, that'll be all for today." I declared loudly, a right grin across my face.

* * *

**Note**: Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed this bit. I'm going to take it slow with this fic. I'm trying to really focus on characterization and interactions, so I'm sorry if you're here to read hella smut. The smut will surely come later. But _much_ later, most likely. Anyways, give me any criticisms you may have. More negative than positive, if possible. It'd be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

What I've learned from being in this business is that talking is not really required. Hell, it's not even encouraged to speak. Anything that comes out of your mouth is completely irrelevant to the photographers or fashion magazines or top brand clothing lines. If there's anything that you have to say, show it to the cameras through expression. No one cares for your opinions. They just need your pretty face, and that's it.

That's how it used to be for me.

When you're as big as me now, though... it seems like the whole world is watching. Listening to every word I speak, analyzing every move that I make. I have to remain careful with everything I do because I'm always being carefully studied by a million pairs of eyes. But I have to be on top. Remain put together at all times. Refrain from doing anything reckless. No screw ups, because there's always someone behind me that's ready and more than willing to take my place. Always.

This career, this _lifestyle_... it's all a competition. And whoever else isn't in it to compete, are the judges.

* * *

I stepped out of the building and into the crisp autumn air, clutching my coat a bit more tighter into myself. Other models followed behind me, making their way around me as I stood still.

I just finished meeting the designer and other models for a fitting for the runway show tomorrow. The designer sure did take her sweet time. First, she arrived about twenty minutes late to her own meeting, and then took several hours to finalize what each of us were going to wear. A process that usually only lasts about fifteen minutes. Half an hour, tops.

She was quite rude, not only to the models but to her own staff. There were several points during the meet that I just wanted to call it a day and leave. Give a nice slap to the old, haggard bitch before heading out the door. But that would've been the end of my career. My agency would have dropped me faster than a bowling ball handed to a five year old. And no good agency would want me after. All the other agencies would be just clawing to have me, though. They don't care for bad reputation, probably prefer it even more. All the top agencies, however, have good and clean names to keep. They want to be represented by not just the best looking models, but by rolemodels.

Which is probably the hardest part of this job.

I began walking down the city street to where my driver is parked, hearing the clacking of my heels on the pavement. I then also hear a few clicks of cameras go off, simultaneously being blinded by bright flashes of light that lit up the dark street.

I rush to put my glasses on as I walked a little faster. I cannot be seen looking so tired. Paparazzi would probably sell the photos to one of those awful celebrity news magazines, you know, where there isn't a single article in it that's true, and write a story about me being on drugs or something.

I smirked at the thought as they started asking me an endless string of questions.

"Isuke! Miss Isuke!" They kept shouting my name to me, following until I slid into the backseat of my car. I shut the door with more force than necessarily needed.

Fucking idiots they were, but there's only one thing that I'll ever admit that I have in common with them.

The love for money.

* * *

I pushed the door open to my apartment slowly, dragging myself inside before throwing my coat upon the coat rack. I slipped my heels off, leaving them carelessly by the door as I made my way to the living room. I dropped my bag on the coffee table, and let myself fall onto the white leather couch, collapsing into a pile of exhaustion. I sighed as I mindlessly grabbed the remote for the TV. It flicked on with the press of a button and some reality show was on.

"Boring~," I mumbled aloud, before flicking through the channels. I landed on a rock music channel, and I smiled as I recognized the song.

Me and Mama would listen to this all the time when I was young. When he would drive me to school, he'd always play it, but that was before I—

One of my phones started ringing then, and I groaned as I sat up to dig through my purse to find which one it was. It was my personal phone, not my business one.

And I saw the caller ID, and answered with no hesitation.

"Hi Mama! I was just thinking of you."

She heard him laugh gently before greeting with, "Hello, Isuke."

"How are you and Papa?" I immediately asked.

"We're good, just missing our Isuke," his voiced sounded warm and soothing to my ears.

"You'll see me soon! You're both definitely coming to the show tomorrow, right? I got you those seats that right up next to the runway."

"Ah," he hesitated, and my shoulders immediately slumped back against the couch, "We'll have to see what happens, Isuke. Your Mama and Papa have been very busy dealing with their own work too, you see."

"I understand."

I don't know why I'm not used to this already. They've seen me several times before, and they're not interested in such things. At least, Mama isn't. I must sound ridiculous, like a child whose parents never showed up to their school play.

"If we can't come to the show tomorrow, then we'll definitely go to your next one. Okay?"

That's what he said last time...

"Okay, Mama!" I forced a happy tone, not wanting to complain to him.

"Okay, well it is pretty late. I just wanted to call to check up on you."

I smiled slightly at his words despite the fact that he and Papa won't be coming to the show tomorrow.

"You don't need to do that anymore. I'm a grown woman, you know."

"You're still a baby to me. You're _my_ baby."

"_Mama_," I drawled out in protest, even though I didn't mind it one bit.

He laughed again, "Well we're going to bed. Sleep well, Isuke."

"We love you!" I heard Papa scream in the background.

"Love you too. Goodnight," I ended the call with a small smile as I sank back further into the couch, phone still in hand.

They don't really know it, or maybe they do, but just hearing their voices makes me feel better.

A light yawn escaped my lips before stretching out like a cat across the couch. My eyes fluttered shut as I nestled into one of the pillows lying next to me. I brushed some strands of hair out of my face before I became comfortably settled, all while the rock music from the TV played softly in the background. I'm so tired, I might as well sleep here for tonight—

Until the phone starts ringing again.

I groaned as I sat up once more. I checked the phone in my hand, only to see that it wasn't that phone that was ringing, but my business phone.

I tossed the current phone in my hand onto the couch before I began digging in my purse once more. I found it, and answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" I answered groggily.

"Woah, you sound like a man with that voice, Isuke!"

I rolled my eyes at the sound of my event booker's voice.

"Nio," I greeted sweetly with an underlying hint of venom, "May I ask why you are calling me at this ungodly hour?"

"Chillax, it's only like... oh," Nio must have just noticed the time.

I sighed out in frustration.

"Tell me why you called anyway," I laid back down on the couch, my legs dangling off from the arm rest of the couch.

"I know you requested that you wanted to take some days off of work about a month from now," Nio began, now having captured my full interest.

"And?" I probed.

"Well, it may be have to be pushed back another week or so."

"Another week?" I asked, anger evident in my voice.

"Or so," Nio quickly added.

I was flabbergasted, "Well can you tell me _why_?"

"There's this shoot coming up. A big one. No other models, just you. It's for that artsy-fartsy fashion mag that's been getting a lot of attention internationally lately."

Shit, I knew which one she was talking about, "Yeah, what's it called again?"

"QUEEN."

"Oh, what an original name," I couldn't help the sarcastic remark. Honestly, they could have been a bit more creative than that.

"Better than your name," Nio cackled.

"Not like I'm named after a fucking bird though, am I?" I smirked as I played with my hair with my free hand.

"So mean~," I can practically visualize her pouting, "Anyway, this project's going to be a week or two long. The editor-in-chief of the magazine just made her first clothing line, so that's why it's such a big deal. We're going to fly out to several different parts of the world to do numerous shoots. From what I know, one's going to be at a beach, another on a rooftop, one in a fucking forest or something weird like that..."

This project actually sounded interesting. To travel to many different places for one project was rare, and seeing as it's an 'artsy-fartsy' magazine, as Nio had put it, I'm sure I was in for many different surprises.

"When does the project start?" I cut her off.

"Well, they haven't completely put the staff together yet for the project, so they said maybe a couple of weeks before everything's sorted. She said she wanted to 'construct the perfect team'. All they know is that they want you to be the face of this."

"How much are they paying us?"

"Oh-ho, that's the part I was just getting to," Nio sounded smug, only adding to my curiosity more.

"How... Much?"

"Five... Million." She mocked me, but I didn't care as I tried to process the words.

"Five?!" I nearly shouted as I sat up on the couch, gripping the arm rest tightly.

"Million," Nio added.

I actually spluttered in shock.

"I reacted the same. That also excludes hotel stays and food and the like. They have it all covered."

I absentmindedly removed the mobile from beside my ear, staring down at the carpeted floor in thought.

This could very much be one of the greatest milestones of my career if the magazine can make it. With the money that this editor supposedly has, this is going to be publicized all over the damn world. Which means _I'll_ be publicized all over the world.

Which means _more_ fame and fortune.

I felt a smirk grow across my face.

I can just picture myself rolling in the money now.

I chuckled to myself... I can't wait to tell Mama and Papa tomorrow.

* * *

**Note**: Hey guys. So there's Isuke's and Nio's introductions for you, as well as for Isuke's Mama and Papa.

I hope you don't think that the amount of money for that project is too much. I did some research, and it's unbelievable how much money a supermodel can make from just one gig, especially the more famous ones, Cara Delevigne for example (who has an estimated net worth of 145 million. Just let that sink in). It may seem like I'm trying to blow this up and out of proportion, but do trust me that I am not. Just lettin' y'all know.

Haruki and Isuke will meet soon don't you guys worry, but I did warn you guys that this is going to be slowly paced lol.

Anyway, I appreciate all of the feedback and criticism from the last chapter! Please keep doing so, so I can better my writing skills. Thanks for reading!


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